All Your Faults, All Your Successes
by Cormag Ravenstaff
Summary: "You are Lena Oxton. Any faults, any successes, are what make up you." Oneshot.


**Now, I've never written Overwatch before. I've barely owned the game a month as well. But I bought it because I wanted to support Blizzard after they announced Tracer was gay. And now I'm addicted. So of course I'm writing it XD**

 **Now, I'm sure there'll be minor inconsistencies with canon. I did research, but of course it won't be perfect. Feel free to correct me on anything, I don't enjoy making the same mistakes twice.**

 **Also, I am not British. But I did some research on British slang/expressions, since Lena is in her twenties. If I misused something and you know its correct usage, PLEASE let me know. If you are interested what my source was, please ask.**

* * *

 **All Your Faults, All Your Successes**

"How long have you been with Overwatch?" the professor asked politely. His small talk attempted to calm her riled nerves.

Was she a nervous talker? Yes, Lena Oxton never shut up. She knew that. But stage fright in front of a room full of students was a _completely_ different thing.

"Oh, only a few months, love." Nerves closed her mouth before she could embarrass herself. The time for that would certainly come. As more and more students trickled in, the lump in her throat grew.

"They're doing great things across the seas, if you ask me," the professor idly commented. He had picked up on her disposition, and tried to distract the young British woman. "Is this your first time speaking to a group like this?"

"Yeah. Back home, they sent me on this tour saying I'd be talking to some people to promote Overwatch. And I thought, that's ace! But no, I'm not chatting up a person at a time, I'm yapping at a group over a hundred. Just my bloody luck."

The older man gave her rant a laugh. "It gets easier with time, that's for sure. When I started out in this field, I had the same troubles. I would always tell myself that these students were here because they wanted to be. If they had the patience to learn, they'd have the patience to deal with any quirks the speaker might have."

"Thanks, love." They wanted to be there. _Breathe, L_ , she chided herself.

The professor stood up. Lena hadn't even remembered his name. "Alright, if you remember from last time, I said we'd have a special guest today. This is Lena Oxton, a member of Overwatch's Slipstream program. She'll take a portion of the class to tell you about Overwatch and answer any questions you have."

Lena stood up from her chair as the man smiled at her. She gave a little wave, and said, "Hiya!"

A general murmur of voices greeted her back. No one shared her enthusiasm.

Any and all confidence she'd built up withered.

"Like he said, I'm Lena Oxton. When the project is ready, I'll be piloting the Slipstream itself," she said, words tumbling out of her mouth. "I'm British, though I'm sure you can tell that from the accent. I've only been a member of Overwatch for a few months now, but I'm sure I'll be able to answer any questions any of you have."

A lot of blank looks were directed toward her. Were Americans ever excited? Sure it was morning, but it wasn't _that_ early.

"I thought I'd just answer any questions you have, because I'm sure you don't want to hear me prattle along about topics you don't care about." Lena flashed a fragile smile that would have broken had anyone laughed.

Not a single person raised their hand to ask a question.

Finally, one man cleared his throat in the front row. "Ms. Oxton, do you have an opinion on how Overwatch handled the Omnics in Nigeria during the Omnic Crisis?"

Lena blinked. The bloody hell did he ask?

"Um, I'm afraid I never got to that history lesson in secondary school. I never got my diploma, much less went to college," Lena apologized. _That_ caused a mild stir to pass through the crowd.

 _What did I say?_ she wondered. Lena offered a smile in consolation for not being able to answer the specific question.

The student in front frowned, but nodded in acceptance. He did not follow up with anything.

Lena looked around the lecture hall, looking at all the students in the elevated seats as her eyes climbed to the back of the room.

A flash of movement. A redhead raised her hand.

"Cheers, love!" Lena nearly celebrated as she pointed the pretty girl.

"How big is Winston?" she asked with a smile.

Lena laughed. "Winston is bloomin' huge! He's almost twice as tall as me!"

"So he really is a gorilla, then?" the same girl followed up with.

"If he isn't, then he eats far too many bananas and peanut butter to be normal," Lena joked.

Finally, the audience broke out into a general chuckle. A few more hands raised, with questions ready at their fingertips.

Beginning to relax, albeit slightly, Lena pointed at the next hand.

-X-

When she finally stepped out of the lecture hall, Lena's breathing still came in near gasps.

"Bloody hell, I'm glad that's done," she muttered, finding a chair to collapse in. A small voice in her head told her she should have stayed in the room, in case any of the students wanted to talk.

The far louder voice told the other to stuff it. Lena stretched out her legs and sighed.

When the doors banged open, Lena scrambled to get back into a presentable position. Morrison's words snapped her back to the reality of the situation, _"You're acting as the face of Overwatch. Make sure you remember that."_

And when Jack Morrison says something to you, you better damn well listen.

Lena smiled at each of the passing faces. Several offered smiles back, while a majority of the others just went on to their next class.

One tumultuous minute later, the hallway grew quiet again. Lena scratched her head, rather lost. What was she supposed to do now?

"Ms. Oxton?"

Perfect timing.

"Yeah?" Her head swiveled until she met the redhead's gaze. The woman had the warmest eyes the Brit had ever seen.

"I volunteered to give you a tour around the campus." Her lips quirked into a grin. "So I'm Emily, and I'll be your tour guide for today."

 _Keep it cool, L,_ she warned herself.

"Cheers, love!" The brunette flung out her hand with gusto. "Call me Lena!"

Emily laughed, and gave it a shake. "You're awfully cheerful."

Flashing her prize winning smile, Lena laughed with enthusiasm. "Jet lag, Emily! For right now, it's a breeze."

The student gestured for the member of Overwatch to follow her. "How long are you here for?"

"I've got another group to talk to tomorrow," Lena said, her enthusiasm dipping for a moment. "And then I head on off to the next place."

"Then I'll have to show you as much as I can today." Emily had a note of determination in her voice. Lena loved it.

The duo walked out of the building and onto the grand open field of grass. The redhead waved an arm, "We call this the Quad. It's got the main halls where we have class all along the border of the grass."

Lena took a deep breath of the fresh air. "Winston would love this. As much as he sits in a chair all day, the big guy enjoys getting some exercise." Lena blinked, and lowered her voice, "Don't tell anyone that, love."

Emily giggled, and the brunette decided it was the prettiest sound she'd ever heard. "Cross my heart, our secret."

The two continued, chatting as Emily casually pointed out some of her favorite places to study outside. Whenever she mentioned having a class, Lena immediately asked about it.

Eventually, Emily remarked, "Why all the questions about school? Surely you can't be that invested in my education." Her light laugh rounded off the sentence.

Lena winked. "Sure I do, love. You're my first American friend!" She took a pause. "Though I'll be honest, I'm a little jealous of all the cool stuff you do here."

The student immediately began to apologize, but the brunette would have none of it. "Rubbish. If I had finished my schooling back home, I might've never gotten in with Overwatch!"

Shaking off the further impulse to spout another 'sorry,' Emily changed tracks. "Are you able to talk about what you'll be doing at Overwatch?"

Eyes shimmering with a clever gleam, Lena spoke through a goofy grin, "I'm sure I can divulge a bit, if you let me buy you a cuppa."

"A cuppa?" Emily cocked her head in confusion.

 _Bloody Americans and their bloody language._ "A cup of tea. Or coffee. Or Coke. Whatever's your cup of tea, love." A wink.

An arm wrapped around her shoulder. Lena did all but gasp aloud as Emily began leading her in a new direction.

"I know just the place."

* * *

"Three dollars and twelve cents," Emily said with the façade of cheer. Her shift couldn't end fast enough.

She took the money from the man's hand. He gave her a tentative smile, as if wondering whether to flirt or not. Emily broke eye contact quickly, barely noticing his internal struggle.

"Next please." God, her customer voice drove her mad.

"Hiya, what is it you Americans usually have?" A bright, cheery Lena Oxton leaned on the counter.

Emily decided it was going to be a stellar day.

"I thought you had another lesson to teach?" she teased.

Could someone giggle with a British accent? Because Lena did. "It was smashing. At least, that's what I'm telling myself." In an absolutely horrid American accent, she continued, "Howdy, I would love a whatever-you-Americans-drink. Coffee!"

Emily couldn't contain her laughter. Every head turned towards her, from confused to annoyed, at the raucous laughter.

She didn't care. Lena was so precious.

"One classic American drink coming right up. No charge." Emily's fingers flashed across the screen, ringing up the drink. She'd pay for it later.

After a few minutes of distractedly taking orders, Emily turned to one of her managers. "Can you take over?"

The woman frowned, and looked over at Lena sitting a table, waiting patiently. "That the Overwatch girl?"

"Yes." Emily bit her lip.

Snorting softly, the woman shook her head. "Get me her autograph, and I'll let you take an extra break."

"Done!" And with a flourish, Emily spun on the spot and almost leapt over the counter. She ended up using the door, not wanting to push it with her boss.

"Cheers!" Lena greeted, holding up her coffee. She took a sip, and cringed. "Oh, that's…a taste."

Emily chuckled. "Not what you were expecting?"

"I'm a tea person, love. This stuff tastes like arse." Lena froze. "Not that I'm ungrateful for the free drink—"

The redhead waved it off. "I know what you mean. I'm a tea kinda person too."

Lena died and went to heaven. At least, that's how Emily chose to interpret her abrupt silence mixed with a dash of awe. She took another drink.

"I thought it tasted bad?"

"I'm here to experience America! This is my first time out of home, so I need to take in the culture, from the bollocks drinks," she held her drink aloft and took another gulp, "to the delightful people." A cheeky wink in combination with a silly grin sent Emily's skipping.

Today would be exceptional.

* * *

Today would be atrocious.

Lena may have had a first class seat, surrounded by attentive flight staff and more alcohol than she could ever dream of, but it did nothing to dull her heart's rampage.

The plane hadn't even taken off, and Lena already wanted off the ride. She wanted to jump up and proclaim she'd left something behind: her heart in the hands of a gorgeous redhead.

A friend had once mentioned she got attached too easily. She'd smiled and replied, "Good thing I hold on tight."

The instant she'd walked out of that classroom, the brunette had been falling. Falling so fast, and so very hard for Emily.

The pilot's voice called to fasten seatbelts. Lena managed to retrieve the mental capacity to accomplish the basic task.

She should be down there with Emily, not flying across the country to talk to more inattentive students about an organization that wouldn't tolerate their behavior.

A spark of reality ignited her. Overwatch meant sacrifice, and that's what she had signed up to do. Lena knew that going in.

But it didn't mean she had to like it.

Her phone binged. An email.

The plane hadn't begun to move yet. She had time to check it.

A few swipes later, and Lena immersed herself in a message from Emily. Whispering aloud, Lena read, "'Overnight I became the girl on campus to talk to about Overwatch, and specifically you. No less than four guys asked me if you were single. I told them you were unavailable.

"'I really enjoyed meeting and spending time with you, Lena. I'm including my vidcall address below. I'd like to get to know you more, if you don't mind.'"

Turning to the nearest person, who happened to be sitting right next to her, she blurted, "She wants to talk to me!"

"Uh, good?" he said, baffled and afraid.

"Very good," Lena said, her voice returning to her normal cheer.

The plane began to move, and the brunette stowed her phone in her pocket. An easy smile found its home on her lips.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad. Lena knew the second she stepped off the plane, she'd be dialing Emily for a chat.

And no one could stop her.

* * *

Emily settled into her couch. The old thing barely stood a chance against more than one occupant, as its legs creaked whenever anyone took a seat.

None of the people she shared an apartment with were home, leaving her alone to enjoy the comforts of her tea in front of the television.

Lena had sent her one line of text in her most recent email: 'Tune into the news on the telly tonight, Em.'

Emily took a sip, and decided her tea was far too hot to drink. Setting it on the worn coffee table, she leaned back and sighed.

" _In other news tonight, Overwatch has announced that their long awaited Slipstream program has entered the final stages. We go now to England for more on the scoop."_

The screen shifted from the main news anchor, and switched a man in a hanger. Right beside him, Lena stood tall with a proud smile.

" _Thanks, Chuck. I'm here at Overwatch's English base of operations. Now, the actual test flight will be taking place in Gibraltar, but I have the pilot herself of the revolutionary project. Lena, what can you tell us about the Slipstream?"_

The camera panned for a better look of the brunette. Lena was nearly jumping up and down.

" _Well, love, the Slipstream is a plane that's gonna be able to teleport. Overwatch believes if we're successful, it'll put us in a stronger position to take down terrorist threats before they can occur."_

" _Thank you, Lena. I have one more question. What made you want to take part in this ambitious project? Certainly there must be some risks."_

Lena nodded. _"There are, as I've been warned before. But discovery holds hands with risk, doesn't it? And I owe it to Overwatch for taking me in when no one else would. But there's nothing to worry about, because I have complete faith in Winston, who is leading the team behind the Slipstream."_

" _There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Lena Oxton will make the jump that she's been preparing months for in one week, but will Overwatch finally meet its match? Lena, thank you for your time."_

" _It was my pleasure. And Emily, you better be watching!"_

The feed cut back to the anchor from before. Emily didn't need a mirror to know how hard she was blushing.

Getting spoken to on national television? Well, if there weren't rumors flying about her and Lena's possible romance, there would be now.

Emily shut off the television, and dialed Lena with a smile.

* * *

"Nervous? I'm not nervous." Lena fidgeted as she denied the accusation.

Winston stared at her. He cleared his throat. "Lena, you've been talking nonstop. More than usual, I mean. And you've completely ignored every answer I gave to your questions, going on to answer them yourself."

Lena bit her lips. She absently poked at the unfamiliar fabric on her skin. On her left leg, the word _Slipstream_ curled around as an unspoken challenge. It took all of her attention away from the hustle and bustle of the hangar. They'd be ready for her soon.

"I'm a wee bit on edge," Lena admitted.

Winston nodded. "That's natural. But don't worry, I've quadruple checked every calculation. You'll be the first woman to ever teleport."

"I know. But it's scary to be the first."

The scientist gave a hearty laugh. "I can sympathize with that. After all, I'm the first for a great many things."

"Thanks, big guy," Lena smiled.

Winston took a small package. "I got you something to celebrate the day." The scientist handed it to her, careful not to damage the gift in his large hands.

"Aw, thanks, love!" The brunette took the wrapped present. Winston must have had help, because his hands were entirely too large for the size of the job.

She tore into it with gusto. Within the paper confines, a pair of sunglasses.

"I love it!" Lena put them on. "How do I look?"

"Ready to take on the world," said Winston with a laugh. He applauded, a wide grin smattering his face.

Lena jumped up. "Smashing. I'm ready to go."

Winston's face grew serious. "Alright. Let's go see if they're ready."

-X-

The brunette settled into the cockpit with a quiet sigh. To the ignorant viewer, it looked like any regular plane.

To Lena, it was a frontier. Dozens of familiar elements mixed with the Slipstream's new interface.

It was what she trained for. Months of preparation came to the front of her head. Her hands gripped the throttle.

" _Lena, can you hear me?"_ Winston's calming voice came through her helmet's communication link.

"Loud and clear, big guy." Her voice betrayed none of the nerves she still felt.

" _How are the sunglasses?"_

"Winston, I can't exactly wear them in junction with this helmet." She offered the scientist a shaky laugh.

" _How disappointing."_ Lena didn't have to see his face to know he felt the culminating tension of the project's eclipse. It gave her a measure of comfort.

"Well, big guy, I'm ready whenever you are on your end."

" _Give us a few minutes. We're nearly there."_

Lena plucked a photo from her pocket. Tucking it between the window and the metal, she stared at it. Emily looked back, a bright smile on her face.

After this, Lena would go back to visit. Overwatch would let her have some time off.

And if they didn't, she'd go begging to Winston. With lots of peanut butter as a bribe.

Yeah, that would work.

"Alright Emily, I hope you're watching," she whispered. "I'm gonna make you proud, love."

" _Did you say something, Lena?"_

"Not a thing."

" _We're ready on our end. Are you ready?"_

Lena cracked her fingers. The pops of her joints obliterated the distractions of her mind. It was game time.

She patted her pocket, checking to make sure her phone was there. Emily made her promise to call as soon as she landed.

"Ready or not, here we go." Lena flicked the switch, powering up the jet. _All down to this, L._

" _You're looking good. Remember to breathe, Lena."_

The Brit rolled her eyes. She wasn't _that_ nervous.

That happened to be a lie she told herself at the moment.

"Everything is good on my end, am I ready to engage?"

" _Roger that, Lena. You have a green light."_

Deep breath. The brunette pressed the button.

The engines began to roar. Lena gripped the throttle with all her might.

The plane began to move. Slowly, but beginning to pick up speed.

 _Beeeeeeeeeep!_

"Something's flashing at me, Winston. What is it?" Lena kept the alarm out of her voice.

" _Odd. We're not getting anything over—"_

The sound cut away, and a screeching static replaced it. The controls sparked.

"Winston?" Lena pushed herself as far into the back of the seat as she could. A stray spark hit the picture of Emily.

" _Lena, get out of—"_

Gone.

-X-

" _We are seconds away from Overwatch's first test of their Slipstream program. We've received word from Lena Oxton that she is ready to go. Only a few more formalities remain before she has the signal to go."_

Emily sipped her tea. Her heart hammered in her chest. This kind of tension felt horrible, but Emily knew this was Lena's goal.

It didn't stop her from being scared. Even with a cup of hot tea, and a blanket around her she felt cold. A creeping dread clawed at her in the lonely apartment.

The American grabbed a pillow and held it tight.

" _Alright, Ms. Oxton has received the go-ahead. Pay attention, folks, because you're about to witness history."_

The camera focused on the jet. It was moving. Every inch it moved gave Emily some sense of comfort.

The roar of the engines sounded loud from where Emily sat. She could practically feel the wind they gave off, and she pulled the blanket closer.

" _I'm receiving word from our sources. Something isn't right…"_

Emily bolted upright. The hug around the pillow had become a death-grip.

The jet disappeared.

The redhead made no move, no sound that could distract her from the television. Then in a flurry of movement, she grabbed her phone.

Lena didn't answer.

Emily called again.

No answer.

A tear hit the screen. She paid it no attention.

No answer.

No answer.

No answer.

* * *

Emily sat down against the wall. With a limp hand, she closed the door she'd just entered through.

A haggard breath escaped her lungs. It complimented her slovenly appearance quite well.

The apartment was quiet. And after the day she'd had, seeing them absent made the situation an infinitesimal amount easier.

The redhead ducked out of as many of the photographs as she could, but certainly they got what they wanted.

Their overriding question seldom left her alone.

" _Sources say you were in a relationship with Lena Oxton, what is your reaction to her presumed death?"_

 _Who asks something like that?_ Emily thought.

Something wet slid down her cheek. She sniffed, and wiped it away.

Crying again. Great.

With the little energy she had, the American stood. Maybe a cup of tea would make her feel better.

The moment the idea crossed her mind, it brought Lena's face along with it.

 _Maybe not tea,_ she sighed.

It'd have to be something stronger. The redhead needed to calm down.

She reached into the cupboard, seeking a way to obliterate her thinking. Her trembling fingers felt the top of the whiskey bottle.

Her phone rang.

Emily closed her eyes. "Please just…go away."

After a few rings, it shut off. "Fucking finally." The words poured from her mouth with such vitriol, Emily hesitated in grabbing the bottle.

Snarling, she snatched it up. For a moment her mind debated whether to grab a cup.

The phone rang again.

With a huff, Emily stormed out of the kitchen. _I'll drink this whole fucking thing if that phone doesn't shut up._

Thirty seconds later, the apartment went silent again. Emily set the bottle down, and popped off the top. In a fluid motion, she took a long drought.

The phone began to ring.

Instinctively, the woman flipped it the bird. And with a growl, she stood up.

Her hands shook even more as she picked up the green cased cellphone. It was a number she did not recognize.

Slashing her finger upward, she answered it.

"What the _fuck_ do you want?"

The other side was silent for a moment. _"Ahem, ma'am…that is, are you Emily?"_

"Who's asking?" she snapped back.

" _This is Winston, a scientist from Overwatch."_

"Oh…" Then it clicked. "Oh my god! I am so sorry for what I said. I-I thought you were someone else."

If this apology made any difference, Winston gave no inclination. _"Well, I've been tracking down your number all day. Turns out we were wrong about Lena."_

"…What do you mean?"

" _She's here at our base in England."_

The phone would have smashed on contact with the ground had the silicon protection not prevented that fate. Emily ran to her room.

" _Emily? Hello?"_

She had someplace to be.

* * *

Winston had ended up calling her back while she was on her way to the airport. She'd listened to his warnings, barely comprehending some of the words like 'chronal dissociation.'

Now that she stood in front of the containment room—how she hated saying that word in relation to Lena—Emily could see just what Winston meant.

Lena Oxton was a ghost.

"Hiya, love," Lena greeted weakly. She gave the redhead a wave that resembled none of her cheer. Her countenance had shifted from what Emily knew as Lena to that of a diminished specter.

"Tell me what happened." Emily made no acknowledgement of anything else, only Lena. She wanted, no, _needed_ to know what had happened.

"When the Slipstream took off, something went wrong." Lena sat down in the secluded chamber, and wrapped her arms around her knees. She shivered. "I got…desynchronized from time. I kept appearing at random places, and at random times."

"How did that feel?" Emily's question was quiet, more of a cautious whisper. Judging from Lena's expression, asking might have been a mistake.

"Sometimes…there was nothing." Lena hugged her legs tighter. "I don't have the vocabulary to describe what it felt like. I didn't think there was such a thing as absolutely nothing.

"I was wrong."

"Can I come in there?" Emily asked, looking towards the door.

"No!" Lena lashed out.

The redhead flinched.

Lena receded deeper into herself. "I mean…I don't want to get lost again."

"Tell me about the times when you appeared throughout time, then." Emily's voice turned to a soothing octave.

"They were dreams. Vivid, real, and not." Lena's voice took on a bit more passion. "I saw the world for what it would be without Overwatch. I saw the desolation of the Omnic Crisis firsthand.

"I also saw you."

"Me?" Emily asked, surprised.

"You," repeated Lena. "I saw the two of us when we met. I saw you if we hadn't met, holding hands with another woman." The Brit looked just as frightened as moments before. Her breathing increased, and her fingernails bit into her legs.

"Lena."

The brunette looked up. Tears had long since covered her cheeks.

"I am not going anywhere. All that matters is this present moment. I am here, and I love you."

Lena got up from the floor, and moved closer to her window to the outside world. In a small voice, she said, "I love you too."

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Lena spoke again. "Will you stay here until Winston fixes me?"

Emily nodded with zero hesitation.

* * *

Lena's arms collided with the Accelerator again. The contraption had a weight to it, and not all of it was physical.

Winston said he'd be by soon to set up a more permanent solution for her apartment. But until then, it'd be lugging around the glowing blue gadget.

Better to get used to it sooner rather than later.

"Not too many more boxes," Emily said with a smile as she walked past Lena. Her girlfriend had insisted on helping her move in.

Lena didn't deserve her.

"Cheers, love," Lena replied with subpar enthusiasm.

"Let's sit down for a moment," Emily suggested, catching on remarkably quickly to Lena's recent quirks.

Unfortunately, the couch had not been brought in yet. The two deemed to share the armchair together.

"Feeling okay?" Emily asked.

Lena wrapped her arms around Emily awkwardly. "Em, why do you love me?"

If Emily was surprised by the question, she didn't show it. "Lena, you're are the most passionate, courageous person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Nothing ever gets you down."

"Until now," sighed Lena.

"Tell me what you're feeling."

Lena tapped the glowing blue light on her chest. "I'm a wreck. Do you really want to be with someone whose life is dependent on how close this thing is to my chest?"

Emily's finger tilted Lena's chin until their eyes met. "You are Lena Oxton. Any faults, any successes, are what make up you. I fell in love with you for who you are. Nothing is going to change that."

"What did I do to deserve you?" Lena asked, holding Emily tighter.

"You stole my heart," she teased.

For the first time since they'd been reunited, Lena laughed.

The brunette pulled Emily in for a kiss. The redhead gasped, but just as she tried to go further, Lena leapt from the chair.

"C'mon, love! There's still moving to do!"

Emily grumbled as she stood from the chair, brushing the wrinkles from her clothes. "Why couldn't we have gotten Winston to help? He could lift the couch by himself."

"That would have been a thing," Lena chuckled. "But think of this as our bonding time as a couple."

"I'd rather go back to cuddling in the chair."

"But think of the couch, and how we'd actually have room on it, love."

Emily smiled. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Lena blushed as her girlfriend walked back to the truck. Heart beating faster than she ever could remember, Lena chased after her.

* * *

 **Author Notes: Well, I daresay I'm quite proud of this one. Romance has never been my forte, despite my love of writing it. I took great care in putting in more time to this fic than any other oneshot I've ever written. I think I finally handled it properly.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this piece as much as I did. Now keep calm, and play more Overwatch.**


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